Broken
by Nintendian
Summary: The thing is, you don't know you're falling apart until it's already too late. - one-sided Marlene/Lynn.


**Notes:** Uriah/Marlene/Lynn is like my OTP. But really though, they have such a tragic love story. Rated T for alcohol and dark themes.

* * *

**Broken**

...

_Because what's worse than knowing you want something, _  
_besides knowing you can never have it?_

- James Patterson

.

.

Sometimes, Lynn dreams of a girl she is sure she's never loved, who has golden blonde hair and eyes that remind her of the blue skies she has now long forgotten. She wishes she could just forget about it all, but the girl keeps coming back to haunt her, slipping through her fingers when she clutches at her head in terror, and weaving her way into her worst nightmares. It's no surprise, then, that Lynn usually wakes up screaming, her cheeks wet with tears and her throat raw, hoarse.

There is a part of her that wonders if this is Marlene's reprisal. Because if that is true, her best friend is so very _cruel_, taunting her by advancing just within reach of her arms and then whisking away with that familiar high-pitched giggle, leaving Lynn feeling shattered all over again.

It is like some sort of twisted, convoluted waltz, except she is only dancing with ghosts.

.

.

It has been two nights since Marlene's death, and somehow, Lynn ends up with a bottle in her hands. She didn't want to—it was entirely Uriah's idea—and now she is looking down at it, hesitantly.

"C'mon, Lynn, give it a try," Uriah says, taking a swig of his own bottle. His eyes have become feverishly bright, his voice slurred. These days he has been drinking more than is good for him, but no one else seems to care that much. If anything, people just try to commiserate with him on his loss, giving him sympathetic smiles and pats on the back.

In response, Lynn only gives a noncommittal mutter; she has never liked alcohol. She's seen what it has done to people like her instructors, her sister, her friends.

Her best friend gives her an encouraging grin and sets his hand on her shoulder, his voice suddenly sympathetic. "It takes away the pain, you know. When you're under, you almost forget that anything has ever happened." His voice softens a little, surprising her, and she reconsiders.

With only the hope that it is some sort of anesthetic, she takes a tentative gulp. It is sharp and sour and burns like acid going down, but she decides she likes the burning feeling, and is suddenly desperate to finish the contents of the bottle. Before she knows it, she and Uriah are both too drunk to remember what they're saying, but too oblivious to care.

"You know, Lynn, you can tell me anything," Uriah says sluggishly. She nods and laughs, a little too loudly. The first time she's laughed since Marlene's death.

"Yeah, I know."

"So..." He grins. "Got any deep, dark secrets?"

Lynn thinks about it for a little while, pouring the rest of her drink down her throat. It's suddenly too hot in here, and it feels like her forehead is burning. She grabs Uriah's arm, leading him toward the chasm where they can talk in peace and quiet, giggling whenever they stumble. Finally, they stagger up to the railing, and she relishes the cool, refreshing air that welcomes them out here, the sound of water crashing against rocks down below, the mist spraying her toes.

Uriah was right, she realizes with some surprise: the pain is gone, and she feels as if she has been set free from all her burdens, even if the feeling is only temporary.

Right now, she has no weight on her shoulders. She can spill it all out.

"You want to know my darkest secret?" she smirks, leaning onto the rail for balance. "I'm in love with a dead girl."

And then they are laughing, laughing so hard they feel as if they are going to burst open, even though Lynn doesn't even remember what's so funny. She isn't even sure if Uriah heard what she just said. It just feels good, to laugh. To let everything out, for once.

.

.

Hours later, she feels like she's going to fall to pieces.

Lynn mutters a quick excuse to Uriah before running to the bathroom to go throw up into the toilets. She pukes so hard that tears come to her eyes, and she's left on her hands and knees feeling as if she's about to pass out, the world spinning and tilting around her. When it is all over, she stares blankly at the tiles on the floor, not seeing or hearing anything. She tries to pull herself together and pinches her arm so hard it bruises, until her eyes gradually focus and the stall stops spinning like a top around her.

Then she remembers everything she has just done and said, and before she can stop herself, bursts into tears.

.

.

Later that night, Lynn can't sleep, so she goes up onto the roof where Marlene fell to her death. She looks down at the gravel three stories down, feeling the chilly night breeze on her face. The wind is howling through the buildings like a lost soul, rustling her clothes, giving her goose bumps.

She wonders what Marlene felt like up here, if she even saw or heard anything at all. Was she scared? Did she know she was going to die?

Lynn paces up and down the roof, listening to the echoes of her footsteps. Her eyes are already red from crying, but now she feels a lump forming in her throat, warning her that she is about to start again. This is the third time she has cried since the night of the funeral, when everyone gathered to praise Marlene for her bravery, her dauntlessness.

She is disgusted with herself; she should be Dauntless, not a weak, broken little girl, not a sniveling crybaby.

Before she can stop herself, she lets out a strangled scream, one that pierces her own ears and reverberates back from the buildings surrounding her. She doesn't care if anyone hears her; she doesn't care about anything, anymore. She just wants Marlene back.

Most Dauntless like to keep moving on, no regrets, but Lynn regrets everything. In this world, there are no second chances, and now that she has missed her one and only opportunity, she is left kneeling in the dust, broken, shattered to pieces. It's true what they say, she thinks, you don't know what you have until it's gone.

.

.

It is another night, and Lynn is back on the roof again. She has come here every night since the one when she got drunk with Uriah—it's not like she will get any sleep anyway. She only has nightmares, these days, of nothing but Marlene, Marlene, _Marlene._ She stands on the edge of the roof, the wind blowing hard again, beckoning her to come join it. Idly, she thinks about how easy it would be to let go of everything and just fall, nothing pulling her down any longer except for gravity.

For a moment, she seriously considers jumping.

There is nothing to hold her back, no one to restrain her here. She will finally feel like she is flying. She can jump and nobody will know, and they will find her broken body on the ground three stories below, broken physically like she is emotionally. There will be a pool of blood surrounding her head, and the Dauntless will all praise her courage and bravery, but what they won't know is that the reason she jumped is that she was too much of a coward and couldn't face life anymore.

She steadies herself, tenses her muscles, and prepares to feel the falling sensation she's always dreamed of. But something keeps her back, and seconds later, she finds that her muscles won't move. She can't do it.

Not because she wants to live, but because she doesn't want to die. Because she is afraid of death and everything it means.

What a coward, Lynn thinks, and almost laughs when she realizes the irony of it all. Sure, she can fire a gun or throw a knife, but was ultimately defeated by her own emotions. She is Dauntless, yet she did not even have the courage to face her own feelings, let alone tell Marlene about them—and now her best friend is dead.

The thing is, you don't know you're falling apart until it's already too late.


End file.
